Saint Isaias Boner posted:

the first guy you said

quote:

When I got home I mixed a stiff one and stood by the open window in the living room and sipped it and listened to the groundswell of traffic on Laurel Canyon Boulevard and looked at the glare of the big angry city hanging over the shoulder of the hills through which the boulevard had been cut. Far off the banshee wail of police or fire sirens rose and fell, never for very long completely silent. Twenty four hours a day somebody is running, somebody else is trying to catch him. Out there in the night of a thousand crimes, people were dying, being maimed, cut by flying glass, crushed against steering wheels or under heavy tires. People were being beaten, robbed, strangled, raped, and murdered. People were hungry, sick; bored, desperate with loneliness or remorse or fear, angry, cruel, feverish, shaken by sobs. A city no worse than others, a city rich and vigorous and full of pride, a city lost and beaten and full of emptiness. It all depends on where you sit and what your own private score is. I didn't have one. I didn't care. I finished the drink and went to bed.

gannyGrabber posted:

How many man's dongs have you touched while on a case? What's the max number for a single case? Do you touch dongs while not on a case?

Dirk Squarejaw posted:

Hi, I'm Kirk Hammett undercover pi.

Beefeater posted:

How many high speed chases occur on any given day?

Blue Train posted:

what is your preferred drug to use when slipping someone a mickey

Roargasm posted:

WHO DUNIT

Roargasm posted:

Forward Toward posted:

I'm a phil marlowe man myself...

Peebla posted:

Do police get jealous and angry at you or do they appreciate your help on cases they can't solve?

Saint Isaias Boner posted:

I don't know anything about it but i'll do my best to answer your questions.

alnilam posted:

how's it going with the Case of the Hidden Tootsie? did you ever find out how many licks it really takes? did you ever nab mr. owl?

Hogge Wild posted:

op, is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?

Blue Train posted:

do you take your rings off before you introduce some lippy broad to the back of your hand

ClamdestineBoyster posted:

Do you ever piss in your own mouth and rub feces on your desk, you know, to get into the minds of the criminals? Or do you even have a desk? Maybe you just live under a dock, hanging upside down like a bat? Waiting... Waiting...

Blacktoll posted:

As a 1950s man myself I enjoy a hearty breakfast of seven cigarettes and a donut. Often with coffee. What regimen do you recommend for a man with your constitution?

VendaGoat posted:

I hear that every case is about a dame. Is this accurate?

alnilam posted:

Did you know she was trouble the moment you saw her silhouette on the frosted glass of your office door?

Hogge Wild posted:

do her legs end?

King of Bees posted:

When a dame walks in your office with a case what is the ratio of her being the perp or the victim ? I'll take my answer off the air, thanks for the discussion.

King of Bees posted:

Oh, one more thing before I hang up. Did you know Turbo Textiles makes very dapper detective suits? Ok, thank you.

OctoberBlues posted:

the great deceiver got arrested by an undercover detective once, maybe he can chime in.... and save this pathetic op.

thathonkey posted:

i am gonna go sign up at the police to go undercover as a drug addict how much walking around money do you think that they'll give me to buy drugs and keep up the ruse ??

thathonkey posted:

i can make that work

Mojo Threepwood posted:

Do you often need to crawl into dumpsters to look for clues? Do you ever find more than you bargained for?

Hogge Wild posted:

have you hosed watson

JakeP posted:

i tried to be a public dick and now im a sex offender ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ

bunnyofdoom posted:

Where is the jade monkey and who killed Hildebrand?

King of Bees posted:

Where do you poop when doing a stakeout?

King of Bees posted:

Where do you poop when doing a stakeout?

thathonkey posted:

same place i usually poop .. into my center console

VendaGoat posted:

Give me your best, "A dame walks in", monologue.

Saint Isaias Boner posted:

She walked through my door like a used-car salesman homing in on a mark — a high school maths teacher from Tuscon trading sideways from some beat up jalopy to another, trying to convince himself that a different ride might give him a new lease at life, maybe rekindle some of the sparks he used to see in his wife's eyes before they had the children and grew cold and apart, indifferent to one another as they went through the daily motions. His jacket, worn at the elbows from too much teaching, his shabby chinos buffed and shiny with age, his scuffed shoes, the patchy, grey mustache and musty toupee all speaks of a desperate man, a crumpled and lonely victim of the modern world, living paycheck to paycheck and staring over the grim precipice of redundancy, teetering on the very edge of relevance. One more push from that principal - a younger man, still with a full head of hair, earning twice what the faded old maths teacher's bringing home, living high on the hog and not giving a drat about the little guy, a guy no longer on the up-and-up or even stalled in the slow lane of middle age but somewhere near the beginning of the downward slide into yhe black night of senility - and he'd be gone, another nobody disappearing into the void of nowhere, with no one to miss him or even mark his passage. The saleman has his number and moves in for the kill, his mouth full of glittering teeth like a leopard shark, ready to take this guy for all he's worth - not much, perhaps, but in this topsy-turvey world it's kill or be killed and you take what you can get. Nothing personal, but sometimes you've got a yard full of dinged-up 1980 Crestas you've got to shift. No, this guy will pay sticker price on the 1979 Datsun 310 with moderate rust. The Datsun 310, a creditable successor to the Cherry F-II line of motor vehicles and known overseas variously as the Nissan Pulsar and the Nissan Cherry, was a hard sell thanks to its lack of an automatic shifter, its small size and its cost compared to the more popular 210. Still, he sizes the guy up just like this dame was eyeballing me, he'll take the car, I'd take the case. And just like this salesman, she was bad to the bone, overselling on servicing and options, charging extra for rustproofing, chucking a few bucks onto the bill for kicking the tires before shoving the unpopular vehicle out of the lot and into some poor sap's life. That maths teacher would thank the salesman for the grift, just like I thanked the broad for coming to me with her tale. She was tall, like the Toyota Cresta in relation to the Datsun 310, with legs that stretched as long as the mileage on that beat-up old rustbucket. You could tell she'd been round the block once or twice even if she dolled herself up to turn back the clock much like the salesman using his drill on the Datsun 310's odometer to make it look as though it had traversed fewer miles than it had in fact traversed. But her dress, plunging at the neckline like the resale value of that Datsun as it putters off that sunblasted lot in Tuscon made it all worthwhile, her cleavage as deep as the crack the old teacher failed to spot in the Datsun's rocker cover before signing the papers. He must have known deep down that car'd be trouble, and I should've listened to that same voice, growling deep in the back pf my mind, telling me to show this tramp to the door. But it was too late - she was sauntering over to me like that Datsun 310 snaking its way through the Patagonia - Sonoita Scenic Road, smoke curling from her lips like the oil burning away on that cracked engine, and she had me. She sat down across from me, leaned over the desk and began spinning her story - a web of lies and deceit, but I was on the hook like that maths teacher for that loan on a broken down old Datsun 310.

Colonel Cancer posted:

Are you a smooth operator? As a private dick, do you ever go gay for pay?

King of Bees posted:

Where do you poop when doing a stakeout?

Mojo Threepwood posted:

Do you have a web of informants throughout the city who put themselves at considerable risk to keep you informed of evildoers' plots? Have you considered betraying them?